I don’t remember where or exactly what year it was when I first saw the movie “Altered States” and learned about their existence, but in spite of the crazy things that the sensory deprivation tank triggered in the movie, I was hooked on the idea of trying one. I knew that I would love to float, nearly weightless, in super-salinated, body-temperature water, in the dark, losing all sense of where my body ended and the water began. It was a feeling I'd cultivated in lucid dreams, and one I'd wanted to experience in real life, too.
So this year, when Paulo got a gift certificate for an hour in a local float tank for my birthday, I was beyond excited. Now, of course, they’re called “float tanks” and from what I’ve been reading they’re all the rage again. Athletes are using them to treat fatigue and muscle tension, therapists recommending them for patients with PTSD and anxiety, and people flocking to them to relax and unwind. I couldn’t wait.
There’s only one float pod at the facility I visited, so I had to wait a couple of minutes when I first arrived for the previous guest to finish their shower and the attendant to ready the room again. He came out looking pink, happy, and a little stoned. It was his first time, too, and he said it had taken him half the time to learn not to move and shift position because it made the water move, but after that he was golden.
Then it was my turn. They led me into a lovely private room containing the float pod (which looks like a giant white clam shell with a glowing blue interior), a shower stall, a seat, towels, earplugs and all the essentials. They recommended that I put the earplugs in even before I take my initial shower (you shower before and after floating) so that I didn’t block water inside my ears, and told me that the room lights were on a motion sensor and would turn off a few minutes after I closed the pod. I had the option of listening to music or silence (I chose silence) and they said that the water jets would turn on at the end of my hour to let me know my time was up.
When I first climbed in I had to laugh at myself slipping down repeatedly because I was so buoyant that it was almost hard to *sit* in the tank long enough to reach up and pull the lid down—my body just wanted to float up! The interior of the pod was surprisingly spacious, with the lid being low enough that I could reach up to it sitting, but not so low that it felt close or tight. I was able to lie on my back with my arms and legs outstretched and only occasionally float into one side or another.
The water was wonderfully warm – both the air and water temperature inside are engineered to match body temperature—and they aren’t kidding about the buoyancy. The top half of my body floated above the surface at all times. At first, the water was still moving slightly from the jets (which turn off when you close the lid) and it gave me the slightest sensation of spinning, which wasn’t optimal. I opened my eyes several times to orient myself (I was not, in fact, spinning) and to try to stop the sense of movement. But before long, the motion sensation stopped, and all I could feel was the slight line of surface tension where the top of the water gave way to air, and the gentle, even pressure of the water supporting me.
Next, as the sensory outlines of my limbs got somewhat fuzzy, I became aware of the tension in my neck. Without any other sensations to distract me, I became increasingly aware of it. For a few minutes, this worried me: what if I couldn’t get comfortable on my back? Was this going to make my neck worse, or ruin my float? But then I discovered that by tilting my head back slightly more all the tension relaxed, and I could go back to melting.
After that, the whole experience gets fuzzy. Time lost meaning as my mind started to drift between different states of awareness. There were times that felt meditative –where there was a smooth, silky grey calmness behind my eyes and I was only aware of my breathing, and sometimes not even that. Sometimes I slipped into dreams, or my thoughts skipped around on their own. All sense of my bodily presence went out of focus, deeply relaxed and comfortable, almost melted.
There were, however, disruptions to my calm. I relaxed so deeply that I snored once, and woke myself. I also discovered that when I lie on my back I am still susceptible to an assortment of nap jerks and twitches, which was unfortunate. They weren’t uncomfortable, but of course they’d cause motion, some sensation, and they’d bring me back up to a lighter state of consciousness. Apparently, I have more twitches in my left arm and hand, and significantly less on the right arm and leg. I definitely wonder what state I might have reached without the twitches!
After one particularly forceful twitch I woke myself more than usual and wondered how long it had been. I wondered if the underwater blue light had ever turned off in the pod, and opened one eye to see. I learned that it hadn’t, and also that opening your eyes is a bad idea – it introduced a tiny bit of supersalinated water into the corner of my eye, which stings. Luckily, it was only the tiniest amount, and although I could feel it, the sting wasn’t bad.
After that, I started to get a little too warm, the way I do when I wake up from a deep sleep and need to kick off the covers. I still had no idea how long I’d been floating, and was still incredibly relaxed, but decidedly more awake. I wished for a way to tweak the temperature down a degree or two, but not enough to get up.
It was only a few minutes later that the jets turned on, signaling the end of my time. It had already been an hour!
Getting out was also strange, like rebooting my sensory system. All my nerves were asleep, and everything felt somehow both groggy and hyper-aware and, well, a little stoned. The air felt extra cold, and then almost too warm again. I was aware of feeling all the textures – the floor, the towel, the water pressure in the shower. I was awake, but still in slow motion. By the time I had washed of the salt, dried, and dressed, I was feeling relaxed, but happy. The tension in my neck was all gone. My mind was quiet. I realized that the dopey feeling was actually just a lack of mental tension. There weren’t 200 things buzzing through my mind. I felt rested, and calm, excited to go meet the family for lunch, but not worried or stressed, even though it was a little late.
It’s been a few hours now since I exited the tank. I still feel pretty good. Calm, happy, focused but unhurried. It wasn’t the cosmic, out of body experience I’d hoped it might be, but it was just my first time, and I had some learning to do. I think another time I might try with music, or my deep meditation oms. I’d like to discover if there’s a way to decrease twitching so that my descent isn’t so frequently interrupted. But oh, my, overall it was just lovely!
PS I just realized that all the muscle soreness from this week’s gym time is gone --another apparently fabulous side effect of my birthday float!